


Little Things

by vinterdrog



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Movie Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 06:30:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinterdrog/pseuds/vinterdrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's movie night, but Stiles just wants the pack to be gone so he can cuddle</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vendelin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vendelin/gifts).



“Do they _have_ to come over?” Stiles asks as he shuts the dishwasher maybe a little bit firmer than what’s strictly necessary. He leans back against it, crossing his arms as he looks at Derek by the kitchen table.

“It’s Friday,” Derek replies, as if that is somehow enough of an answer. 

“Yeah, I know. And I’m wondering if the pack _has_ to come over today.” 

“It’s Friday,” Derek repeats, turning a page of the morning paper. “They always come over on Fridays.” 

“Yeah, but—” Stiles sighs and pushes off the counter. “Whatever,” he mutters. He crosses the kitchen, but when he brushes past the table, Derek grabs his arms and stops him. 

“Hey,” he says, voice low. 

“What?” 

“Why don’t you want them over?” 

“I don’t— It’s not—” He sighs again, rubs the heel of his hand into his sore, tired eyes. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” He avoids Derek’s eyes, and Derek tugs on his sleeve. 

“ _What_?” he says again. 

“I just don’t want them to be here tonight.” 

“Why? They’re here every Friday.” 

“Yeah, but I don’t spend every Friday working after coming home from a week-long conference at three in the morning and then not being able to—” He bites down on the last word and glances into the hallway behind Derek. 

“Not being able to _what_?” Derek prompts. He won’t let up until Stiles tells him, and Stiles can’t lie, and sometimes he really fucking hates dating a werewolf, has he ever mentioned that? 

“Cuddle,” Stiles mutters, glaring at his feet. He doesn’t even try to keep his blush down because he knows it’s futile. 

“You...don’t want the pack over tonight, because you want to cuddle?” Derek clarifies. 

“Yes,” Stiles says petulantly, still refusing to look up. “I’m seriously too tired to have sex tonight, but I’ve been away for a week, and I just—miss you,” he mumbles. They’ve been living together for over two years, this should not be as embarrassing as it is. 

Derek is silent. 

“Whatever, have them over, I don’t—I need to go, I’m late for work.” He twists out of Derek’s grasp and walks away before Derek can grab him again. “I’ll see you tonight.” 

He knows it’s childish and stupid, but he’s running on two hours of sleep after a week of trying to sleep without Derek in his bed, so he considers himself excused. He’s tired, and all he wants to do tonight is eat and then go to bed and fall asleep on top of Derek, and then wake up to have amazing hot mind blowing welcome home sex, and _then_ he can deal with a pack movie night. Tomorrow. They can totally have Friday Movie Night on a Saturday. 

But that won’t happen, and Stiles knows it. It’s not like he doesn’t like the pack, they’re his best friends, of course he likes them. It’s just that Derek rarely touches him when they’re over, because they’ve been told off too many times by everyone, and Derek has decided that the easiest way to deal with it is to put Scott and Allison on the couch between himself and Stiles. 

So now Stiles is working overtime, and he will probably get home to food that’s already been eaten, a movie that’s already running, and a boyfriend who’s on the opposite end of the couch. Yay, life. 

The cars are already there when he gets home, just as he predicted. The driveway’s free, though, so he can park in his usual spot and take a few deep breaths to brace himself before going into the house. 

“Hey,” he calls out when he enters the house, and gets a collective “Hey” back from all of them. He dumps his bag in the hall and heads straight to the kitchen, without stopping in the living room. He expects the usual Friday post-dinner mess, but is pleasantly surprised when it looks like when he left this morning, except for the plate loaded with food that sits on his place by the table. He puts it in the microwave and leans back against the counter, closing his eyes for the minute it takes to reheat his food. When he opens them, he actually jumps an inch off the floor, because Derek is standing right in front of him. 

“Jesus Christ,” Stiles breathes. “I’ve _told you_ to _stop doing that_ ,” he says, shoving Derek aside to get to the microwave. 

“But it’s so fun,” Derek says, stepping up behind Stiles and wrapping his arms around him. 

“For you, maybe,” Stiles mutters, grabbing a fork and spearing a carrot. He leans back against Derek while he chews, enjoying the warmth and comfort of his boyfriend’s body pressed against his. God, he _really_ doesn’t want to get out into the living room and sit through the rest of a movie he doesn’t care about. 

“You’ll join us when you’re done?” Derek asks, his breath hot and wet against Stiles’ neck. 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Good.” Derek presses a dry kiss to Stiles’ skin, then he walks back into the living room. Stiles finishes his meal, puts the plate in the dishwasher and fills up a glass of water before he follows. 

The pack is halfway through _The Avengers_ , and Stiles strongly suspects that Derek had a say in the choice, because it’s Stiles’ favorite movie and no one else actually likes it, not even Scott. The others are sprawled out as usual; Isaac on his stomach under the coffee table, Jackson and Lydia in the armchair, and Scott and Allison...curled up on one end of the couch. Derek is at the other end, and between them is a free spot, just big enough for Stiles. All the irritation that’s been building up during the last eighteen-something hours just bleeds out, and Stiles is filled with a warm sense of contentment. He walks over and sits down on the couch, curling up under Derek’s arm immediately. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, resting his cheek against Derek’s shoulder. 

“I missed you,” Derek whispers back. 

“Shut up,” Jackson moans from the armchair. “It’s your movie, Stilinski, just shut up and watch it.” 

Stiles opens his mouth to reply that Jackson really doesn’t have to be here, because no one will miss him, but Derek runs his hand soothingly over Stiles arm and shakes his head. 

“Fine,” Stiles mutters and burrows himself deeper into the couch and Derek’s embrace instead. 

He manages to watch all of ten minutes of the movie before his eyelids get too heavy and he can’t keep his eyes open. He spends another ten minutes almost dozing off and then jerking awake, before Derek sighs and manhandles him until he’s in Derek’s lap, his face buried in the soft fabric of Derek’s shirt. 

“Sleep,” Derek says. 

“Couch,” Stiles tries to protest, but he can barely get the word out. 

“I’ll carry you,” Derek reassures him. 

Jackson’s gagging noises are the last thing Stiles hears before he drifts off, Derek’s steady breathing lulling him to sleep for the first time in a week.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm thinking about writing a sleepy!sex sequel if anyone's interested? otherwise i'll just keep it in my fantasy box along with derek in lace.


End file.
